


Before Today It Just Wasn't Time For Us

by fandom_cat



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Getting Together, Karasuno, Kisses, Kuroo keeps saying Tsukki and Yamagushi hates it, M/M, Nationals, Nekoma, Pining, hinata is too excited for normal speech, kenma is too smart for words, lev is so much better now, pile of Karasuno puppies hugging, playing volleyball like bosses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-18 01:28:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18110462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandom_cat/pseuds/fandom_cat
Summary: It doesn’t happen the way Tadashi imagined it.The game, the last set, the kiss, the first time Tsukki calls him “Tadashi”, the first time he has managed Tsukki’s given name without choking on it and subverting to the nickname he’d given him years ago.None of it happens as Tadashi imagines it, but he is too elated to care. Too lost in it to think about what’s next or who’s watching them as they kiss and kiss and kiss.a.k.a.I was binge reading the manga and this happened.





	Before Today It Just Wasn't Time For Us

**Author's Note:**

> Before, I’ve only watched the anime, so this is new.
> 
> I have not finished it, so this is not canon in terms of what happens during Nationals BUT it has SPOILERS about who played whom and who won which game because I looked it up on Haikyuu Wiki! Do not read if you don’t want to know. 
> 
> There’s lots of volleyball because I’m a volleyball nerd and you cannot possibly stop me.
> 
> Also, it may sort of remind you for the manga a little, because I was imagining it in that format, but since I can’t draw, writing is the only medium I could manage. Enjoy! ^_^

It doesn’t happen the way I imagined. 

It’s at Spring Interhigh, Third Round. It all hits its breaking point at once, all of it. Even me. 

This match, this destined match, our faithed opponent… 

When we first played Nekoma, I didn’t think we’d meet again here. None of us were worthy of these tall halls back then, even if Nekoma were perfect in their connections, really the superior team. It’s surprisingly Lev who makes the difference, I think. It makes me a bit sad that a late-starting first year could turn the tides, when I had to struggle so much to be useful but I can’t complain when my serves make it through, when I score points for my team. 

Lev, however: the way him and the libero Yaku-san click during blocks, the way Lev spikes— Nekoma has never had a strong offense, so nobody expects it when all of a sudden they pound through the way powerhouses usually do. With that clever setter at their helm… they’ve made it here. 

So have we.

 

#

 

That didn’t happen as I expected it either. Of all things, it’s Tsukki and Hinata working  _ together _ . The first time it happened, we were all too shocked to realise it was even on purpose. But I saw the way Tsukki smirked—that smirk I love which sends thrills down my spine, the one I must snicker when he does it because otherwise I giggle like a fool—so immediately I knew he planned this, as he usually does when it comes to blocking. 

Yet him giving instructions to Hinata about it, helping him receive it just right when Noya-san wasn’t yet in play to back them up on second line… that was new. The worst part was when Hinata went to serve again—and it happened for a second time! Hinata did a sort of happy dance when he landed his serve where he’d wanted it to go, then Tsukki blocked the Inarizaki spiker, did that serve-block combo we always do and I felt it then. 

I was  _ mad _ . No, it was worse than that. I was  _ jealous _ . 

It wasn’t Hinata’s place to work in tandem with Tsukki, he had his own partner. Let him share high-fives with expressionless Kageyama, with somebody who wasn’t my best friend since childhood. 

By the time Hinata had received it right with Tsukki’s help for a second time, making it a third time they’d worked together, I was on fire with frustration. The only thing I could do was clench my fists, keep reminding myself it was for the game—for the game, so we’d win—the game which should matter more than this—

“They’re doing great, Yamaguchi, relax!” Ennoshita-san said, clapping me on the back. I was so tense I barely moved from my spot where I would have usually dipped forward under the pressure. “What’s wrong Yamaguchi?”

I didn’t say a thing in response but luckily Ennoshita-san got distracted by Karasuno losing the point to Inarizaki this time around — our opponents had gotten used to Tsukki and Hinata’s play, but it got us to a duse. We had a chance at the Third Round thanks to that strategy but all I was feeling was relief when Hinata slapped hands with Noya-san on his way out the field. 

“Hinata!” Ennoshita yelled, “what was that?”

“HA! Did you see that? Did you see that, Ennoshita-san, Kageyama?! Tsukishima taught me that, he told me when the ball goes  _ woof  _ to the other side, then he’ll go  _ hawp!, plump!  _ and I can just  _ hop! _ , catch it like that, and it will just  _ swishhhh!  _ to Suga—”

I was relieved to hear coach yell at Hinata to shut up while everybody else was sweating to turn the duse to their favour. It was fun to hear Kageyama scold Hinata, telling him he should fight for a receive like that all the time, to let the pair’s bickering become background noise as he watched the team struggle to gain those last points.

 

After the match, after that win which meant everything to the third years, getting to play a set together, getting to win a game at Nationals, to drive the team to that success point, to fly—all I could think of was those two points, those three times Hinata and Tsukki had worked together.

I confronted Tsukki outside, while the others were rushing to get to the bus. It wasn’t my best attempt at showing frustration: the moment Tsukki aimed that scowl at me, I gave up every effort to throw an accusation at him. 

What I managed was, “A-a-are you gonna start being friends with Hinata now?”

“Huh?” Tsukki tossed me the look which meant I’ve just said something to get under his skin. “What is that about?”

“You were playing with him, as a pair!” I squealed. “You taught him something! Y-you did our serve-and-block thing too!”

Tsukki’s smirk was unforgivingly crooked. I couldn’t laugh along this time but I was worried enough not to giggle foolishly. He tilted his head to look down at me—and how crazy it was he could do that, that he was so much taller than me, even though I was hovering awkwardly over people on the train when my father took me with him to Tokyo. Tsukki showed his teeth before he  _ tch _ ked with annoyance.

“Shorty is still so sucky at aiming his serve, I had to have a backup plan, didn’t I?” Tsukki admitted. “I told him to step it up even more when I blocked, thinking Inarizaki would go with the outside hitter if the serve was easy. Since I didn’t have you on serve, I had to make due with Hinata…”

It wasn’t—a comfort, but it was something. I managed a smile which felt fake to me but perhaps the shadows of the crawling night masked it, because Tsukki simply huffed and turned towards the bus, hands in his pockets. 

“Is that what had you so tense, Yamaguchi?” Tsukki teased. He knew he sounded mean but he also knew I could tell when he meant it friendly, not menasing. 

I nodded in confirmation but he couldn’t see it, so I rubbed the back of my head, forced a grin and added, “Didn’t imagine you’d go as far as to work with Hinata ‘s all.”

Tsukki hummed in agreement. “Foolishly,” he whispered, like he didn’t want me to hear. He didn’t know I always heard him, even the words he didn’t aim at me. I listened, alway listened. “—I care if we win or lose.”

I gasped, gaped at Tsukki as he laughed at his own admission. 

“How lame of me,” he continued. “I want to fight until the end, Yamaguchi.”

 

#

 

It should have happened then, I think as I reflect on it now. 

I should have kissed him, shared the happiness of that moment, shown him how proud I was, that he could feel again, that he could care. But I don’t have spine for that, it turns out. All I could think of then was that now, he could share that with Hinata as well.

All I fear is Tsukki’s passion slowly rekindling will give him something in common with others around us, even other teams, get him more friends—better friends, than silent boring timid me.

 

But it doesn’t happen that way either, not yet at least. Not during the game against Nekoma, as Tsukki stands next to me with the reserves, waiting for his turn at the front line. 

“How much do you bet he’d still receive with his face even after all he learned as a ball boy?” Tsukki murmures as Hinata waits for the Nekoma serve at the front. 

“Mm?” I manage, too distracted watching the game to focus on responding.

“Huh?” Tsukki nudges me in the ribs. “Are you ignoring me, Yamaguchi?”

“Sorry, Tsukki,” I answer, glimpsing at him to show him I’m listening but still watching. Hinata didn’t receive with his face, it had been Sawamura-san who got the ball to Kageyama, and it is time for the setter to choose which hitter to send the ball to.

“I think at least once, it will be with his face.”

“Fine,” I say. “I’ll buy you that encyclopedia you wanted if he gets it with his face.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“I want…  _ fries _ !” I groan the last word as the point goes to Nekoma. That damn dump is so hard to predict.

Tsukki groans too, for a different reason. He doesn’t like the smell of cooking oil at all. “Fine. I found a place nearby which makes your fries. If Hinata…”

“WOULD THE TWO OF YOU QUIT BETTING AGAINST YOUR TEAMMATES!” Ennoshita yells in my ear and I yelp in surprise. Tsukki takes a step sideways. “START CHEERING OR I’LL KICK YOUR BUTTS!”

If the scolding from Ennoshita-san didn’t do it, the carefully aimed angry look Sawamura-san sent our way did, combined with the questioning yet scary glares Noya-san and Tanaka-san managed… I focus on the game then. So does Tsukki, judging by the fact he doesn’t say a thing more to me.

We play the first set to the brink of our abilities. I can tell nobody is giving up, nobody is letting the next stage slip between our fingers when it’s so close, it’s all so close. But Nekoma takes the set. Again, I find myself not caring about the score, as much as the fact the Nekoma Captain—Kuroo—keeps repeating Tsukki’s nickname with that clever grin of his. 

That’s how it happens again.

The jealousy is back, so strong, so overpowering I cannot think of anything but how frustrating it is to watch somebody steal something which is  _ mine  _ right under my nose and not be able to do anything about it. My serves help in the second set, they drive us closer, closer, closer to that victory, but it isn’t enough to quench my thirst for revenge, it isn’t enough to reclaim ‘Tsukki’ for me, to claim Tsukki for me…

The third set drags on so long, painfully long, when both teams have revealed all their new tricks, had put it all out in the open for the other to counter, to fight, to adapt to, until we were all pushing harder than ever.

I hadn’t gone in yet. It was worse than the nerves of having to set, now I was certain in my technique in ways I hadn’t been before. This was worse now I knew I could make a difference so why wasn’t I going in yet, why wasn’t Coach Ukai using me the way I should be used…

Was he afraid I’d try something rash, after I’d told him I was learning new things?

 

#

 

It wasn’t the first time I’d thought about it, but Tsukki pairing with Hinata pushed me towards finally opening my mouth. I begged— _ begged _ Tsukki to show me how to block better. It was supposed to be my position anyway, apart from pinch server, so I insisted, until my childhood friend was leading the way towards the hall Coach had rented.

“Be careful, Yamaguchi,” Tsukki warned me. “I’m not a good teacher like Shimodo-san.”

But he had still convinced Kageyama and Hinata to sneak out while the others were resting. We needed real spiker for this, so we needed a proper setter. Luckily, that pair was never high enough on volleyball to refuse extra training.

“Wait, how did you get a key again?” Hinata asked, popping his head around Kageyama to stare at Tsukki.

“I didn’t. Yamaguchi nicked the spare one from the Captain’s bag.”

Hinata’s eyes almost popped out of his head and I giggled nervously at the thought of the consequences of that. The skin at the back of my head was going to fall off from rubbing at that rate.

We kept jumping that evening, I kept trying, kept panting with exhaustion I wasn’t used to from bench-warming for too long. But with Tsukki by my side, by the end of the hour, I’d began getting a read on Hinata if he wasn’t running at minus tempo.

“GET RIGHT BACK HERE AND REST WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU I EXPECTED AT LEAST TSUKISHIMA TO HAVE SOME SENSE,” Coach’s voice was blaring from Tsukki’s phone. We headed back.

I should have kissed him then, when walking back to the hotel tired and high on adrenalin seeping out of our pores as our hearts struggled to calm down after running on high rate for so long, or any evening before the Third Round, before the Nekoma game,. 

But it didn’t happen like that either.

 

#

 

I told Coach after he’d yelled himself hoarse about not resting enough before an important game. We hadn’t even seen Sawamura-san yet, which of course ended up being the harder scolding to survive. When the others headed to sleep, I managed to shakily push it out, push out the words which showed my willingness to fight for that spot as a regular next year, to be useful for more than a few points here and there each set. 

_ “I can learn new things too, even if it takes me longer!”  _ I yelled at my feet as I bowed to Coach Ukai.  _ “I will be in that starting line next year!” _

 

Maybe Coach isn’t sure in me because I felt sick right after and ran away from him, trying to catch up with Tsukki before he’d gone too far without me. Maybe Coach is afraid I need to do more than block a bit with Tsukki as my teacher, because a lot of the team’s tricks had taken training camps and practice matches and diving drills to even begin working properly. Maybe this isn’t the time to throw the team off-kilter, when we are so close to the next stage of Interhigh. 

But why would he keep me out as a pinch server even? It isn’t fair. 

Not when for the third set in a row, Kuroo keeps going at it.  _ Tsukki-this, Tsukki-that, look how we tricked your read block, Tsukki, hey Tsukki, I still got lots to teach you, kid.  _ I can’t stand to listen to the taunts anymore, to the way Tsukki keeps  _ tch _ king but not correcting Kuroo any longer, not after the first set when he’d asked him not use that nickname with that disinterested tone of his which to others makes it seem like he doesn’t care.

Throughout it all, I have to stand there and bear it, not getting even a bit of revenge. I’d delight in using our serve-and-block against the Nekoma ace, maybe that would wipe the Captain’s smile off his smug face as they keep gaining, keep trying to break the twenty-point mark just after we’d pushed for our score to get there first. But I don’t get the chance, not until we’re 19-16, not until it matters so much how I serve it hurts.

If we make it over before Nekoma, everybody would be fired up to win, to fly until the last spike hits the ground, until the last point is taken. 

So this is what must happen—

Coach calls me to the stand then. Kiyoko-san hands me Tanaka-san’s No. 5. I shake as I take it but I am grateful to be given the opportunity. I nod at Coach before the whistle blows and I must take the step to the line. The referee holds me in place until our numbers are written down for the records. In the meantime, Tanaka-san keeps grinning at me, slapping me on the back, telling me to get them those points, to take the set if I must. I know I won’t last than long but I also know my serve is a powerful weapon, a spear, so I’d open that gap back up, give the ream a chance to push back until Kuroo isn’t smirking anymore, until there is no reason for him to sneer  _ ‘Tsukki’  _ with that confident voice of his.

This is what must happen: I must keep scoring.

I serve the first one, I send it as far back as I can, as close to the line as I dare. I can hear the Captain yelling from the sidelines, players hesitating, I see the libero running, his step faltering… and it’s in!

I jump far up in the air when the score tips over to twenty. I did that—did it for our team, lifted them up when they needed it, I did my job as the pinch server even with just that one point. It is a point that matters.

I matter. 

In my dreams it happens then, in front of everybody, so they could see how happy I am to score much more than a point. In my dreams I’m in Tsukki’s arms and…

These aren’t my dreams. Karasuno is screaming, the stands are alive with the roar of spectators, with way-to-go-Yamaguchi’s and Akiteru-san’s ‘ _ great serve, Tadashi _ ’. Sawamura-san is tapping me on the back, Noya-san is shaking me. It’s just one point.

But I matter.

So I serve again. It’s shorter this time, on purpose. It’s shorter because I was hoping they’d take the step back to expect another long serve but I am not this lucky as to trick Nekoma. Not their setter at least, who’s warning even as the ball makes contact with my hand and the libero is there faster than I can blink, sending the receive up. For a second, I freeze. 

“Keep going, Yamaguchi!” I hear a yell.

It’s Tsukki. He’s waiting to block up front, he couldn’t have seen me falter but he glances for long enough so I can spot it. The fire in his eyes riles me up, because it matters to him: it matters to him now he’s started to care about volleyball—tentatively, barely—that he wouldn’t be let down again. I would not be the one to let him down. I will not let that spark go out.

So I am into position before I could think twice about it, watching, thinking, hoping this first time it wouldn’t be me who has to receive yet the ball flies for a cross from their wing spiker right into my chest. Sawamura-san dives, he connects, Tsukki sends it over the net with a sharp overhead pass to the corner of Nekoma’s field.

Our opponents are too good to fall for that. They are experts at connecting, experts at catching those trick balls even as they keep coming. The next spike lands in my hands but it bounces off to the right, where it’s too hard to catch it, even though Kageyama and Noya-san both try.

It’s Nekoma’s serve so I expect the whistle to sound, to see my number in Tanaka-san’s hand as I walk to the line, having had my last chance at making a difference, at taking a revenge I barely felt the taste of with the single point I scored.

I want to matter longer.

It seems I do, because the only whistle I hear is the one which announces the permission for Nekoma to serve. I glance at Coach but I have no time to exchange questioning glances because the ball is flying my way. This won’t be a chance I miss.

It’s a step forward to get it but it’s flying from my hands to the front. Just a bit short but it shouldn’t matter, not to Kageyama, who sends the ball flying. I recognize the toss the moment he makes it, because it’s Tsukki’s toss, the one he loves if it comes consistently every time, so he could…

The ball rebounds off the block as Nekoma catches up to Tsukki but he seems unbothered. It’s Sawamura-san who saves it, who sends it back to Kageyama but this time it’s so high the setter has to fly for it, jumping, reaching, arms outstretched. I watch as I expect the toss, watch Nekoma as their blockers gets ready to stop him.

Then Kageyama drops it over his shoulder, over the net, and it falls right out of the blocker’s reach, way before Nekoma could react.

I am yelling—I am yelling with the rest of them, because I am so used to being on the sidelines cheering but Noya-san joins me, screams insults and praise at Kageyama all at once. Tsukki is rolling his eyes; he tosses me a glance, his clever smirk which says it all, and I return it.

I’m still in the game when Tsukki joins me on the back to serve. Before he could go behind the line, I murmur how surprised I am I’m still here.

“What are you talking about, Yamaguchi?” Tsukki says evenly. “You told Coach Ukai you want to be a regular. This is your chance to prove you could be, now we have a large point gap. Or are you giving up?”

My lower lip trembles as I shake my head. Tsikku ignores me for the sake of getting ready for his serve.

Hinata is back at the front lines and there is Lev, ready to match him with his blocks. It all goes tumbling from there, into an endless back-and-forth, both teams struggling a point at a time as we keep that ball into play with every last breath we have. I catch it five times, badly, in the fight for a single point—a point eventually Nekoma takes when they aim it at me for the sixth time and I finally crumble, hesitate for too long, so it smashes my arms at the wrong angle just to fly too far left, towards the scorekeepers.

My apologies go unanswered, Sawamura-san dragging me back into my position, talking on my regard, explaining it’s my first longer streak in play so I’m nervous. I’m more embarrassed than before but I keep playing, because I promised.

I will not be the one to let Tsukishima Kei down.

21:18 is 22:18 is 22:19. Kageyama is on serve but with Nekoma’s defense it doesn’t matter. Luckily, it’s that one time Lev manages to screw up, that one time he gets caught in the net as he jumps. For Nekoma’s second most powerful offensive weapon, he sometimes forgets himself too much still, when he gets riled up. Don’t-minds and next-times fill the other side of the court, then all of sudden it’s there.

The front line.

I glance at Coach, who raises an eyebrow. He shows me the net, like he’s inviting me to it, like he’s saying, “ _ There’s your chance, Yamaguchi-kun. Take it, if you’re so ballsy to claim you’d be a regular. _ ”

I shake as I lift my leg, which wouldn’t go, just wouldn’t move; Noya-san nudges me with the tip of his fingers and I stumble forward over the line, making it to the front of the court for the first time in a game.

This matters. I matter. I’m afraid.

But I glance over my shoulder, glance at Tsukki standing with the reserves pushing his glasses up his nose even though he doesn’t need to because these are his sports pair. So I know, when he looks at me like that, from underneath his eyebrows. I know I should do it, even if I’m afraid I can’t.

“We’ll be right behind you, Yamaguchi,” Noya-san says, grinning, giving me a peace sign. “Your seniors have your back!”

“HEY THAT’S MY LINE” Tanaka-san yells from the bench. The referee gives him a warning and both Kiyoko-san and Coach drag him forcefully back down.

I smile nervously only when Kageyama sullenly nods at me, confirming our libero’s encouragement. I shake my head up-and-down so fast it feels it will fall off, but I force myself to stop, to turn, to take the final steps to the net.

It happens for the first time. I’m in the front line, in an official match, during Interhigh no less, ready to jump for the block. I can do it, I tell myself, even though I think I can’t.

And I really can’t because the spike after Nekoma’s receive goes right between my hands, because I’m not holding my own, I don’t believe I could make it so I actually don’t. It escapes Noya-san’s quick reflexes by an inch, because I wasn’t good enough to even slow it down for the rolling dive would work.

I’m angry, I’m so, so angry: at myself, for missing my chance, at Kuroo for smirking, at the crowd for cheering, and at clever scheming Kenma who knows I’m too green to stand my ground.

But it doesn’t matter quite as much as I think, because on our side the others are riling up, and it’s Hinata for a spike before Sawamura for a spike before Noya-san sets for Kageyama for a back attack and it doesn’t work but then it’s the  _ ace—our ace— _ our Asahi-san and he smashes it at the tip of the block so hard it flies too far back for even Nekoma’s impossibly quick libero to chase it.

It’s our set point then.

Hinata’s uncertain serve would win us no favours but that’s not what I’m thinking about. My skin prickles with anticipation as he joins me at the net. His hand brushes against mine where he lifts it at the ready.

“Welcome back, Tsukki-i-i-i!” a voice carries from the other end. I purse my lips but turn around so Tsukki wouldn’t see. It is too far; it has been too far for two sets already. The Nekoma Captain needs to  _ stop  _ or this jealousy will burn me as I stand.

“Switch with me for middle blocker, Yamaguchi,” Tsukki says, ignoring Kuroo.

“W-what? I can’t, I haven’t—never—I couldn’t…”

Tsukki  _ tch _ ks at my uncertainty, at the trembling of my hand next to his. “I have more experience it the middle. We’ll work the block together, but I’ll do better at quicks.”

“Oh,” I mumble just as Hinata hits a serve. “Makes sense. I haven’t practiced those enough.”

We switch quickly, getting ready for the block.

It doesn’t happen as we plan it. It’s not that one point, the first spike which we manage to stop. It’s all fumbling receives and barely-over-the-net returns, all too many mistakes, mostly mine, as I stumble to dig, as I trip over my own feet to catch the one ball Kageyama has trusted me to spike, but all I manage is an aborted hit which the other side catches without breaking a sweat.

We jump together twice: once at my side and once in front of Kuroo. We don’t stop the last one, not really, because it catches on the edge of my left hand before it slides vertically down the net like it’s gliding along it, and it hits the ground with a loud thump.

“Frustrated, Tsukki?” Kuroo asks. 

But it’s me who’s frustrated even as Tsukki frowns at Kuroo, as the two of them do a little silent stand-off, figuring out who has the right to smirk more crookedly. When Tsukki offers Kuroo his own clever grin, the Captain’s expression falters a little.

“What are you planning, kid?”

Tsukki says nothing. He gives me a look which means I should know. And I suppose I do, a little, but not quite, because  _ knowing  _ between us is from experience, from history, and during training in the past school year I have always faced Tsukki on the other side of the net, to help the starter lineup train. So I’d forgotten how to  _ know  _ when it comes to playing next to Tsukki, but not really, because it’s me and it’s Tsukki and I  _ know… _

So Nekoma serves and we bid our time, we watch them carefully, we move together as we always have and I knowknowknowknowknow, until we make that jump and I could feel it, feel the spike smack my hand, feel it as I push it back to the other side alongside Tsukki, who’s my partner-in-crime, my best friend, my everything. We block it together, until it’s falling down, tumbling towards the floor—

—before a quick kick, of all things, sends it back up on Nekoma’s side. I groan in frustration, panting, heaving with exhaustion, with the need for it to stop, but the constant Tsukki-ing that’s been riling me up for three sets straight is still ringing in my ears so I’m not letting that smirking Captain win. Not even a single point.

Nekoma fights it. They fight so hard I am sure they would win, they would take away that match point but it’s only 24:21, they haven’t stopped us yet. We’re still here, I’m still here and we all matter.

“Not today, Tsukki-kun,” Kuroo growls as he keeps jumping, keeps running, as Kenma keeps trying to dodge the block we make. Even a tip doesn’t work which surprises mostly the players on our side, when Tsukki catches it just before it lands on the floor. It continues, back-and-forth, the endless point which never comes.

I miss the chance to stop Kuroo when I’m too late for a jump but Noya-san has my back, as he promised, and it’s in the air again. Sawamura-san spikes it from the right, trustworthy as ever, but Nekoma has it in the air with the perfect receive.

It’s been too long. A stretched-out second set, a torturous third set, too long for all of us to fight this. I know that’s why Tsukki doesn’t see it, doesn’t get it when Kenma yells a spiker’s name and Tsukki doesn’t think for once, that one time he forgets to wait for the read and the middle blocker across him is falling down having spiked nothing.

It’s the pipe: the one we learned from them, the one we kept trying against them but couldn’t make it work more than a couple of times in the entire match.

But I see it. For once, I see something Tsukki has missed even though I know I’m not usually fast enough but I was looking for this. I was waiting for this so I run. It’s not fast enough, it’s too late, Tsukki is in the way but I launch myself and I push him with my side out of the way so my hands would make it over the net just a little bit more—

The ball finds the ground with a loud smack right on the other side of the net, in their Ace’s feet. I watch it bounce off as I fall down, Tsukki collapsed next to me. I look over Nekoma’s side, searching for the Captain. He’s still staring at the spot the ball fell, the Ace is still staring at his feet where he’d ended up at the front line as momentum took him over with the landing.

“You don’t get to call him that!” I yell over the net, my eyes closed as I manage the words out. I open one to look over, to find all of Nekoma looking at me. I lock eyes with Kuroo, fists clenched at my side. “Only I get to call him ‘Tsukki’! I’ve earned it with years of friendship, so don’t do that again!”

For a second, the world stops. Everything is silent, before Kuroo hisses out with a smirk, “You little…”

But the world erupts then and I don’t hear anything else. Somebody drags me back, probably Noya-san or Hinata, because somebody light is using my shoulders as leverage to jump up-and-down repeatedly. I stumble backwards, stumble into the middle of the team who are yelling, grinning, cheering, even Kageyama is sort of smiling that evil smile of his, which means he’s pleased with how things turned out.

I’m not watching for them though. Tsukki is on his feet now, walking towards me with his eyes narrowed behind his glasses. I widen my eyes, because for once I am not sure what that means. Hinata tries to come between us, to ward off Tsukki, but he’s pushed away as my best friend keeps advancing at me.

“Tsukki, listen…”

“Now what have you gone and done, Tadashi,” he whispers with his final step. “What have you gone and done…”

Tanaka-san tumbles him, perhaps trying to stop him, but all it results in is all of us falling to the ground together. I huff as an elbow finds my side. Somebody probably mistakes it for a celebratory hug because Noya-san and Sugawara-san are on top of us, screaming, laughing, congratulating.

I’m watching Tsukki, who’s just said my name. Why would he say my name, when all my life I’d only ever managed to have him call me Yamaguchi, when all he’s cared about was my family name? When all our lives he’s only tentatively allowed me the intimacy of a nickname?

A nickname I’ve fought for just now, defending my claim on it, struggling it out between Kuroo’s clenched teeth with the last bit of strength I had left in me.

 

It happens then.

Tsukki is staring me right in the eyes, his slender frame splacked on top of me under the pressure of our teammates trying to form a reasonable hug pile. An abomination Tsukki would agree with me should not exist. Under other circumstances he’d have been trying to escape this complete disaster of human affection.

But it happens then.

Tsukki struggles his hands free, grabs my face with both his warm palms, the tape on his fingers scratching my burning cheeks.

It happens then.

Tsukki leans in and he kisses me, keeps his mouth on top of mine as if he’s tasting me for a few seconds, with my eyes wide open in surprise, with somebody yelling our names on my left. Then I move, ever so slightly, and the kiss deepens, Tsukki’s eyes still on mine like he’s watching me, observing me. I wish I could keep that level of focus but once his teeth catch my lower lip I’m gone, gone with a gasp before my eyes snap shut so I could enjoy this just a little longer. It’s all stars and fire and uncertainty because I don’t think Tsukki has done this before but then neither have I, so it’s all wet lips and even that one time our teeth clash a little but who cares, who cares because  _ Tsukki  _ is  _ kissing  _ me, he’s pressing me down with his full weight and I—and I—

“ _ Oy _ ! Stupidshima, this is not the time, we just won a match!” Hinata’s voice pierces the pile of bodies around us. “What even is that, why would you do that…”

“Shut up, Hinata!” Tsukki and I yell together.

I smirk first but the responding smile lights fire inside me I cannot explain. There’s time to think about how many people just witnessed that but at least with the others still stumbling on top of us, Japan doesn’t have to see it too, the cameras view being blocked and all.

Tsukki is looking down at me. He must be holding his breath because I can’t feel it hitting my face even though we’re so close I could smell him. This is not how I imagined it but then how else would it have happened, apart than the first time I fight for us, the first time I show not just Tsukki but somebody else that I have the potential to be a fighter, if I wasn’t so afraid to pick a fight in the first place.

So this is how it happens.

“ _ Kei _ ,” I whisper, too caught in the moment to care. 

“Oh, boy,” Tanaka-san murmures from above Tsukki, like he sees another kiss coming. 

I don’t know how he knows, but I could see it in the fire of Tsukki’s eyes too, I could almost taste the next touch of lips…

Yet that’s not what happens.

“Don’t call me that right now, Yamaguchi, unless you want us to get in trouble.”

“Sorry, Tsukki—”

“You are all already in trouble!” Sawamura-san announces, somehow from outside the pile of graceful Karasuno crows when just a minute ago he’d been crashed among the rest of us. “Get yourselves up to shake hands with Nekoma right now!”

He starts dragging people up. Tsukki looks like he’d take the chance for another kiss before it’s all over but as he hesitates, his opening is gone so he’s jumping to his feet, evading our Captain’s grabbing hands.

 

#

 

“Did that happen the way you wanted it to, Pinch Server-kun?” Kuroo asks as he holds my hand under the net in his.

I pause. He’s been sad and angry and quiet as the rest of them but he’s smiling now. Genuinely so, in a mischievous yet friendly way I could recognise because I know a guy who does the same when he means to be clever yet supportive but he only knows how to do the former not the latter.

Carefully, I smile back. Kuroo’s grin widens.

“It was better,” I declare, watching at Tsukki’s figure already walking away from the court. “It was… the best.”

“Good. Very good.” Kuroo gives me a grin which is not at all friendly so I retreat a little but he’s still holding my hand and I can’t completely run away. “Because Nekoma is paying you back for it next year, Pinch Server-kun.”

A fire lights inside me which has nothing to do with Tsukki. I don’t need his passion to be able to respond, though my voice shakes as I try to fake confidence on top of the blind determination which overtakes me.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

I run off then, chasing my teammates. Behind me, Kuroo laughs.

“Ah, young love,” he sings, the amusement in his voice a bit forced yet still genuine.

 

#

 

It doesn’t happen like I’ve imagined it. 

In the hushed silence of the starry night, with the bright silver moon watching over us, Tsukki kisses me until I’m breathless, until even he can’t stand it any longer and he closes his eyes to enjoy it too.

It happens just how I’ve hoped it would. Yet it’s better.

Because it’s still Tsukki and he’s so methodical and endlessly careful about it, so good at it because it matters to him, because it isn’t just a win or a point or a mark on the wall. It’s us, it’s  _ us together,  _ and we’re kissing and it matters. Somehow, incredibly—

—I matter  _ to him _ .

 

It happens every day after that and that’s everything I’ve ever wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> BONUS SCENE: 
> 
> #
> 
> “PINCH SERVER-KUN! PLEASE DO THAT TO BOKUTO AS WELL, WILL YOU, I WANT TO SEE HIS FACE! DEFEND YOUR LOVE FROM THE LOUD OWL!”  
> Tsukki turns around and walks away, embarrassed, as Kuroo waves at me, grinning so wide his lips must hurt.  
> “Um—okay?”  
> “That’s the spirit!” Kuroo says and slaps me on the back hard enough to make me bow forward. “Until next year. The new Nekoma won’t lose to you.”


End file.
